


Talk Nerdy to Me

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy cannot figure out why Clarke Griffin--athletic, rich, beautiful Clarke Griffin--wants to be his partner for a Japanese lit project. He assumes it's some kind of She's-All-That situation. He does look pretty good without his glasses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Nerdy to Me

**Author's Note:**

> [windybirb](http://windybirb.tumblr.com/) has been doing some [excellent](http://windybirb.tumblr.com/post/131081875171/my-friends-kid-is-like-mad-obsessed-with-zac) [HSM-inspired art](http://windybirb.tumblr.com/post/131130034726/it-feels-so-right-to-be-here-with-youuu-oohh), which made me want some nerd Bellamy/jock Clarke in my life. So here it is in my life.

The whole jock/nerd rivalry has never really been a thing for Bellamy. He would believe there are people who have really struggled with it, but it's never been a major part of his life. In high school, he was mostly left alone, although that might have just been because, okay, he might be kind of nerdy, in terms of interests, but he had a shitty childhood and is in pretty good shape, so when this guy tried to make fun of him for his cheap Goodwill clothes in seventh grade, he won a decisive fight with someone three years older and forty pounds heavier than he was, and no one else really wanted to mess with him or any of his friends after that. His college is populated by a bunch of rich, sporty kids who love pink polo shirts and popped collars, but if he doesn't bother them, they don't bother him, and that's how he likes it.

And then Clarke Griffin sits down next to him in his Japanese literature class and says, "So, we have a group project."

Bellamy knows of Clarke Griffin, in a general way. She's on the women's softball team, and while he doesn't know enough about the team or the sport to know what she _does_ , he's pretty sure she's the captain and they're good at softball, so she's kind of a big deal. And she's also definitely really rich--there's a Griffin Building on campus which is named after some relative of hers--so he had assumed the two of them would never interact, when he bothered to think about it. Which was pretty infrequent, but she lives in the same dorm he does and sometimes wanders around the halls in a towel, and he's only human, okay? It would be difficult to never think about that.

"Yeah," he agrees.

"And we need partners for it."

"Yeah." She gives him an expectant, somewhat amused look, and he catches on after a few beats. "Wait, are you asking me?"

"That was the idea."

They've been in class together for a couple months, so Bellamy knows Clarke Griffin is smart and seems genuinely interested in the subject manner. She participates in group discussions and has good insights.

He also sort of assumed she'd never noticed him.

"Why?"

"I live in your dorm," she says, like she really thinks he doesn't know. "So it'll be easy for us meet up. And I liked what you said about Chushingura last week, so--" She shrugs. "Sorry, did you already have a partner?"

There's no trace of mockery in the question, but Bellamy still finds it hard to really believe that she wants to be his partner. But that's probably just weird, stupid societal prejudices getting in his way. It's not like she's asking him on a date--she wants to work together on a project. She clearly cares about her grades and she's noticed he's smart, so she probably just thinks they'll do well.

"No, I don't." He clears his throat, awkward. "Yeah, we can work together." Belatedly, he remembers to offer his hand. "I'm Bellamy."

"I know. Clarke."

"I know," he says, because it feels sort of polite.

He expects her to go back to her usual seat, but she settles in next to him instead, pulling out her notebook and the novel they're reading, settling herself in at attention. Bellamy isn't exactly staring, because that would be weird, but he is a little unnerved. There are people who are like Clarke in this class, sports kids, rich kids, all of whom are probably smart.

And she's still sitting next to him. It makes him feel like he's in a stupid teen movie, the quiet, dorky kid with a crush on the untouchable popular girl. Even though Clarke's a junior and he's a senior, a senior who took a gap year to take care of his baby sister, so he's at least two years older than she is, it still feels like she has him at a disadvantage. Bellamy's spent a lot of his life being quiet and trying not to be noticed, and it's alarming, to have Clarke seek him out. In any class he doesn't share with a friend with a group project, he tends to hang out quietly and hope there are an odd number of people and the professor will just let him work alone when they realize he hasn't been paired off. Group projects are his least favorite thing.

Clarke shifts her notebook toward him with purpose once the lecture starts; she's left-handed, he notes absently, and her notes from last class cover the top third of the page. She has a neat hand, clear, block print, no frippery, and she favors concise bullet points for organization. But the margins are full of complicated doodles, geometric patterns and trees and a few flowers, all almost scientific in their precision.

In today's margin, she writes, _Did you have any ideas on the project?_

Bellamy's own notes are kind of a jumbled mess, but he has a clean patch of margin facing Clarke, so he responds, _Assume I haven't thought about this at all yet and forgot it was coming._

Clarke bites back on a smile. Bellamy doesn't watch how she catches her lip between her teeth because he's not pathetic, he just--he has noticed, once or twice, that she's very pretty.

_So, lunch after this? Planning?_

The thing is, the professor hasn't even announced this project yet. They could have assigned partners. He doesn't even know what made her decide to bring it up, except that right on cue, Professor Nishiyama says, "The project is on the schedule for today, isn't it? Let's talk logistics."

It's not a huge project--the class is focused on Japanese folklore, and all they have to do is find a work dealing with folklore and present on it. It's not actually going to be a big deal, and he can't help being surprised Clarke was so gung-ho about it. But when the professor tells them to find partners, he's just as glad to have it already figured out.

"So, lunch?"

"You know this isn't a big deal, right? And it's not due for a month."

"I'm pretty busy during spring semester," Clarke says. "Games and practice and stuff. I don't want to dump you with all the work because we haven't planned and I'm out of town."

"I'm not doing anything for lunch," he finally says, on the grounds that Clarke doesn't seem like she's going to give up. 

"Cool," she says, and goes up to tell the prof they're working together.

He manages to mostly pay attention for the rest of the class even though everything feels vaguely off, like he's being set-up for something. He can practically hear Octavia telling him he's being paranoid, and, really, who uses a Japanese group project as an excuse to screw someone over? He has watched way too many teen movies with his sister.

"So, don't laugh, okay?" says Clarke. She's settled in across from him at the dining hall, bright hair spilling over her shoulders as she leans in, like she's about to tell him a secret.

"No promises," he says. He's realistic about his own dickishness. 

That just makes her grin. "I was thinking Pokemon."

He doesn't laugh, but he does choke. Somehow, hearing Clarke Griffin say the word _Pokemon_ is highly disconcerting. Not that Pokemon is some super obscure thing no one has heard of, but--well, it's still weird.

"Come on!" she protests, not realizing why he's acting weird. "Have you ever read the Pokedex descriptions of some of these things?"

"Uh, no," he admits. "Have you? Why have you?"

She shrugs. "I thought they were cool. It's not like they take long, and there's some neat trivia in there. And I'm pretty sure some of them, especially the ghost types, are based on actual legends, so I think it'd be kind of cool to look at them."

"Is this why you wanted me to be your partner?" he asks. "Because I look like the kind of guy who knows a lot about Pokemon?"

"Because I wanted to work with you," she says easily.

"You don't know me."

"You're smart, you seem cool."

She's not the first person to think he seems cool, but generally a couple hours with him disabuses them of the notion. He's not a bad-looking guy, even with his cheap, shitty glasses and somewhat beat-up clothing, and he's in good shape and comes off as kind of stoic and haughty, but he's basically an anti-social nerd who's more interested in history than sports, and he's only ever about five minutes from a rant about something obscure and weird, like Magic: The Gathering deck-building strategies or Roman military campaigns. It's just as well he doesn't really like people very much, because if he did, he'd be more disappointed about not having that many friends.

"I'm not," he says.

"But you want to do Pokemon for this project, right?" she asks, with a bright grin.

"It sounds kind of fun, sure. I always like an excuse to go to Bulbapedia." It's a statement he immediately regrets, because who both has a favorite Pokemon wiki and has the name on the tip of his tongue? He doesn't normally try to hide that part of himself, but--a pretty girl is smiling at him. He'd like her to keep smiling for as long as possible.

But that just makes her smile widen. "See? You're plenty cool for me."

He feels heat creep up his neck. "Right. So, uh, do you want to set up a time to meet?"

*

"You know you're hot, right?" asks Raven.

Clarke grins over her shoulder. "I do, but it's always nice to hear it from someone else."

Her roommate rolls her eyes. "I'm just saying, I don't see why you don't just ask this guy out. You don't need some complicated scheme. Just say, _hey, nerd, you want to make out?_ Trust me on this one, I make out with a lot of nerds, I know it works."

"You're over-simplifying," Clarke protests. "I just want to get to know him."

Clarke is the kind of person who--picks people out. That's how Raven put it at Harper's birthday party last year, somewhat drunkenly, after Clarke had spent most of the night trying to get Maya Vie integrated with the rest of the team. It's not incorrect, exactly, but Raven doesn't really get it. Not that Clarke does herself--she doesn't sit down and think about what makes her like people, who does that?--but she at least experiences it. People will catch her eye, and once they've caught it, they keep it. It's not always in a good way, she can hold a grudge better than most people she knows, but it's always _there_ , this permanent awareness of another person, a tugging sensation that pulls her eyes.

She noticed Bellamy Blake when he was moving in, and Raven is convinced it's because of his arms. Which are, admittedly, very impressive. He mostly wears long-sleeved shirts under his t-shirts, which means she doesn't see his arms that often, but he wasn't on move-in day, and she'd be lying if she said they hadn't caught her attention.

But the first thing she noticed was his hair, which was a sweaty tangle of black curls, and then his freckles, and then his too-thick, unfashionable glasses. Clunky glasses are kind of a thing now, but his glasses weren't the cool kind of uncool. Nothing about him was the cool kind of uncool, except--Clarke liked him.

The two of them had been on the same basic route from the dorm to the parking lot, and she'd seen him unloading stuff with a girl of about fourteen or fifteen who looked enough like him that she felt confident saying she was a sister. Clarke watched him tease the girl, watched the girl shove him and roll her eyes, and it was that, more than his arms or his hair or his freckles, that made her decide that, yes, that one. She liked that one.

But she hadn't had any good way to get to know him. He never came to their dorm activities, which she can't really blame him for. She goes because Wells organizes them and she loves Wells, but she has to admit they are broadly kind of uninspiring. He doesn't seem to go to parties, and he doesn't make eye contact when they pass each other in the hallway. He does blush when he sees her in her towel, patches of red all up his neck, but that's about it.

Until Comparative Lit 211: Japanese Folklore and Literature. Clarke picked the class because she hadn't fulfilled her writing-intensive requirements and she's pretty sure Japanese folklore is really weird and cool, and it got even better when Bellamy Blake showed up.

She still didn't approach him, not at first. He's quiet and kind of a loner, and Clarke wanted to get a feel for him. He doesn't say much in class discussions, and when he does, it's because he thinks everyone else is on the wrong track and he can't deal with it, which is kind of adorable. 

She wouldn't mind making out with him, but she mostly just really wants to get to know him, so it seems stupid to jeopardize that in case he's not interested in a relationship. 

"Its still weird to have a scheme for that," Raven says, pulling Clarke from her thoughts. "Why can't you just make friends like a normal person?"

"There are lots of ways to make friends like a normal person. Asking someone I want to get to know better to be my partner for a project is a totally normal way to make friends." She grins. "And I'm going to his room to talk about it, so--"

"You're a menace, Griffin."

"I'm _friendly_."

Bellamy lives in the basement, which means she doesn't see him that often in passing, except that there are no bathrooms in the basement, so he still has to come upstairs for that. Not that Clarke is paying that much attention. He's just very noticeable.

His door is undecorated except for the name card Wells made for all of them as part of his RA duties. He'd assumed Bellamy was a girl's name, so the construction paper is pink with glittery star stickers on it (Clarke did warn him about hetereonormativity, but Wells loves glitter stars too, so maybe it's not really a problem), but apparently Bellamy either likes it or doesn't care enough to take it down. Clarke knocks and hears a muffled, "Open."

He's got a single, so it's smaller than her and Raven's room, and pretty sparsely decorated. He has a poster of the Great Wall of China and one of Saint Paul's Cathedral in London, covered in smoke, and what looks like an old map of a city she can't identify. His bed is actually made, fairly neatly, and he has a small futon and a TV with a few different game systems hooked up to it. And he's sitting at an old laptop, wearing a pair of battered jeans and his standard t-shirt/long sleeves combination.

Despite her protestations to Raven, she does kind of want to make out with him. She'll just be fine, if it's not in the cards. 

"Hey," she says.

"Hi. You're really weirdly intense about this project."

"Maybe I just really like reading about Pokemon," she says, bright, and sits down on his futon. "What was it, Bulbapedia?"

"If you really liked reading about Pokemon you'd already have your own favorite wiki," he mutters, and her grin widens.

"And if you really liked reading about Pokemon, you'd read the Pokedex every time you caught a new one."

He lets out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, okay. Touche. So, did you have an idea where to start?"

"Darumaka."

"The weird red one?"

"I'm thinking you're kind of a Pokemon poser," Clarke muses. "That's all you've got on Darumaka?"

"It's fire type, evolves into Darmanitan at--level thirty-five, I think? None of which seems very relevant to Japanese folklore, so--"

"Daruma," Clarke says, prim. She pulls up an image on her laptop and turns it to face him. "It's a kind of doll based on a Buddhist monk. So are you gonna start pulling your weight in this project, or--"

"I just googled _Pokemon folklore_ and got a list of Pokemon that are based on folklore, so--"

"If you wanna take the _easy_ way out," Clarke says, but she puts her laptop aside to go lean over his shoulder. "We should look at a bunch of the ghost ones too. I dunno if they're folklore, but they're really fucked up."

"This is just an excuse for you to read weird Pokemon trivia, wasn't it?"

"Basically. Hey, look up Drifloon, it literally steals kids."

*

In their next class, Clarke sits next to Bellamy again. She doesn't really do much--she smiles and says hi when she sits down, but she doesn't write him any notes or anything. She's basically like she always is, smart and interested in the material, but she draws classical columns in her margins and shows him for his approval as she's packing up.

"Are you an art major?"

"No, pre-med. I just like doodling." She stows her books and gives him a bright smile. "Lunch?"

"Is this going to be a thing?" he asks, eyeing her. He doesn't _mind_ , exactly--he had fun hanging out with her, which was very little productive work and a lot of trying to find the most fucked up Pokemon description, which she won handily with _Each of them carries a mask that used to be its face when it was human. Sometimes they look at it and cry_ for Yamask, which is honestly the worst thing he has ever heard in his entire life. Somehow, it was still a fun time. There's just still the nagging question of what she's doing. 

"I'm going to eat lunch, you're going to eat lunch, why wouldn't we eat lunch together?"

"Don't you have friends to eat with or something?" he asks, which sounds kind of weird, in retrospect. Bellamy _does_ have friends. He and his freshman-year roommate Miller still hang out, and he's got Jasper and Monty from the Magic club, and Echo and Nyko who are in all his history classes and angry about all the same shit he is. He just usually grabs lunch quickly and goes back to the dorm to play video games or homework or whatever.

If Clarke's put off or confused, she shows no sign of it. "You're my friend I was going to eat with," she says.

"Is this a _She's All That_ thing?" he asks, following her onto the quad.

"I haven't seen that movie. It's like _My Fair Lady_ in high school, right?"

"Do you have some kind of bet about making me hot and popular? Because I promise if I take off my glasses and shave, I'm hot."

That gets him the dubious look he expected earlier. "I have fun hanging out with you, I'd like to hang out with you more. And I know you're hot, you don't have to lose the glasses. I like the glasses."

He tries and fails not to flush, but she's waving to some girl he doesn't recognize, so he figures it's probably fine.

"Anyway, we don't have to have lunch or hang out or anything," she says, apparently genuine. "But I'm not doing anything, so--"

"Yeah, no," he agrees. "Lunch sounds good."

When he gets home, he checks the college website to see if there are any home softball games coming up, and then calls his sister.

"What?" she says, by way of greeting.

"How are the fosters?"

"Fine," she says. "The usual. I think these ones are going to stick until I graduate, so that'll be cool."

He still feels a sharp tug of guilt, that he couldn't convince the government to give him custody of his sister, but--at least he's close and he can still see her every weekend. And it's probably better for her, being with a family that can take care of her, instead of with him, working his ass off to try to keep the two of them afloat and possibly failing. 

"Cool. So, you want to go to a softball game this weekend?"

"Do _you_ want to go to a softball game this weekend?" she asks, dubious. "Do you even know how softball works?"

"It's like baseball but--I dunno, it has to be different because of sexism, I guess."

"Do you know how baseball works?"

"You hit the ball with the bat and run until you get to home base or--they catch the ball, right? If they catch the ball it doesn't count. I played in gym class."

"None of this is explaining why you want to go to a softball game. Did you finally get a girlfriend? Did you get a girlfriend who plays _sports_?"

"This is going to make it sound like I'm twelve, but she's a girl who's a friend," he admits. "I, uh. I'm trying to do a gesture. Like, sorry I'm awkward, I'm coming to support a thing you do. I figure it's a good way to show I want to be friends."

There's a long pause, and then she says, "That's basically the most pathetic thing I've ever heard."

"I know."

"Is she cute?"

"Yeah. She's also rich and one of the softball team captains and she has tons of friends, so don't get your hopes up about me getting a girlfriend. She's in my Japanese lit class and she lives in my dorm, so she's trying to be friendly. She's way better at it than I am."

"I dunno, going to her game is a surprisingly good idea. I'm kind of amazed you came up with it."

"Thanks. So, uh, I know Saturday's your day, so if that sounds awful we don't have to--"

"Are you kidding? We're totally going. I want to see her and embarrass you. When is it? We can do lunch and softball and humiliation."

"Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"I'm the charming one in the family. She'll like you better because of me."

It's probably true, is the sad thing, so Bellamy buys his sister lunch and checks in on how school is going, and she rolls her eyes and tells him he's an overprotective loser, but once the niceties are concluded, she actually does give him some amount of relevant information about her classes and life. Even if she makes him work for it, he's pretty sure his sister does _like_ telling him stuff.

"What about the girl?" she says, grinning and stealing a fry off his plate.

"I already told you about the girl. We're doing a project together for Japanese lit. She's--I dunno. She wants to be friends, I have no idea why."

"You are a huge loser."

"Right? I don't know what she's thinking. But I should definitely try not to fuck it up, right? She's hot and she wanted to talk about Pokemon, so I should put effort into the whole friendship thing."

"She wanted to talk about Pokemon?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I won't even embarrass you. I don't want to screw this up. You're never going to get a better chance to get laid than this."

He rolls his eyes. "I appreciate your support, but I really hope you're wrong. I will definitely have a better chance."

The nervousness doesn't kick in until they're at the softball field and he spots a couple of the other people from their dorm, the RA Wells and Clarke's roommate Raven, who probably think it's really weird he's here. He doesn't think _Clarke_ will think that, at least; he's honestly pretty confident she'll be happy, which is a new thing for him. But still, he can't help feeling out of place. Sports are not his thing. Everything he knows about every sport comes from gym class and occasionally playing sports games with Miller, and all of those are football- or basketball-based.

The team's by the field, warming up, and Octavia leans in. "Which one is she?"

It's harder to spot her in uniform with her hair pulled back, but he still fails to respond for a second when he does, because she looks really hot in uniform with her hair pulled back. "Uh, number eighteen. Blonde. I guess she's the pitcher?"

"She's definitely too cute for you," Octavia says, patting him on the arm.

"I'm seriously not trying to date her. For all I know she's already dating someone. I'm just being friendly."

"Uh huh. You know you're _at a softball game_ , right? You barely come to my soccer games, and I'm your sister. This one was your idea!"

He makes a face. "Okay, but--I'm seriously not expecting it to _work_."

"That's the spirit," she says, and finds them seats.

*

"Your plan might be _working_ ," Raven grumbles, when she comes up to hug Clarke after the game.

"Which plan?"

"Your boyfriend's here."

"Who?"

"Your Japanese lit partner. He showed up with another girl but she looks like she's like fifteen so she's either not his girlfriend or she is and you dodged a bullet."

"I think he has a sister."

Wells is frowning. "What did I miss?"

"Clarke has a long-term plan to marry Bellamy Blake from the basement," Raven explains, while Clarke is still trying to surreptitiously find him in the crowd.

"Good choice, he's really hot," says Wells, and offers Clarke his hand. "Bi-five?"

Clarke grins and slaps him palm. "Bi-five."

"That might be the dorkiest thing you guys do," Raven observes. "Which is saying something."

"You're just jealous you aren't bi so you can't participate," Clarke says, sticking her tongue out.

"We did bi-five on you, if it helps," Wells adds.

"It does."

Clarke figures that's a pretty good indication she can leave so Wells can keep ineptly flirting with Raven, so she says, "I'm gonna go find him."

"He's by the stands talking to his sister/underage girlfriend."

Clarke spots him and grins when he looks up and catches her eye. She waves and he returns it, albeit not quite as enthusiastically.

"Don't wait up," she tells her friends, and goes over to Bellamy. "Hi. I didn't know you were into softball."

"I figured it was worth a try. I'm guessing from all the hugging and cheering you guys won?"

She squints at him. "I can't tell if you're joking or that's really the only way you knew."

"I was pretty sure. I can read a scoreboard. And I know you struck a bunch of people out and that's good."

"Wow. You should do sports commentary."

He snorts. "Yeah, it'd be great. Griffin threw the ball, the batter didn't hit it. And again. I bet she's using some fancy pitches with names."

"The fanciest pitches," Clarke agrees.

The girl with Bellamy elbows him a little and then nods her head toward Clarke slightly, and Bellamy blushes. "Right, uh, Clarke, this is my little sister, Octavia. Octavia, this is Clarke."

"Nice to meet you," says Octavia. "Bell's told me a lot about you. Mostly to justify why he wanted to go to a sporting event on our day."

"Your day?" Clarke asks, filing the rest away for later.

"We hang out on Saturdays," Bellamy says, like he hopes this will be the end of the conversation.

"He wants to make sure my foster family isn't starving me or anything," Octavia says.

"The one last year was!" Bellamy protests.

"And I was dealing with it." She gives Clarke a bright smile, which Clarke can't help returning. She's cute, and she's going to be a knockout in a few years. "Anyway, this is definitely the first time he's ever wanted to go to a sports event. Like, in his life."

"And you're really making me regret it."

Clarke bites back on another smile. "Well, um, I have to go shower and stuff but if you guys want to hang out and get ice cream with me or something--"

"Yeah!" Octavia says. Bellamy's still flushed, which is the best thing that's happened to Clarke today, and she played an awesome game, so that's saying something. "We can play video games in Bell's room any time."

"We could even do that after ice cream," Clarke points out, which is how she manages to score an entire afternoon with the Blakes.

Once Clarke is actually hanging out with them, Octavia seems to feel her duties are fulfilled, and she lets them walk in front of her while she fiddles with her phone. Bellamy shoots his sister a somewhat exasperated look, but doesn't say anything, and he turns his attention back to Clarke after that.

"Congratulations on the game. I don't think I said that."

"Thanks. I'm glad you came to a good one. It would have been embarrassing if I totally dropped the ball."

"Is that actually a baseball term originally?" he asks, thoughtful. "Dropping the ball," he clarifies, when she doesn't respond.

Clarke can't help a surprised laugh, and she feels a little bad, because Bellamy is _trying_ and she shouldn't laugh at him. But-- "You're adorable," she says, and feels better when he blushes to the tips of his ears. "I don't actually know. It's definitely _a_ sports thing. And baseball is one of the sports where you don't want to drop the ball."

"Isn't that all the sports?"

"Soccer you don't want to pick the ball up in the first place."

That gets a soft but genuine laugh out of Bellamy, and Clarke is a little mesmerized. He should laugh more.

"I actually knew that one," he says. He jerks his head back toward his sister. "O plays soccer."

"How old is she?"

"Sixteen."

"And you're--"

"Twenty-two," he says. "I took a gap year after high school, that was when my mom died. I tried to get custody of O, but--CPS decided I wasn't a fit guardian, and they were probably right. But I at least got them to agree to find foster families in driving distance if they could, so--" He shrugs. "It could be worse." 

Clarke isn't really sure what to say to that. She's an only child, so she's never had or been a sibling. Her father died the summer after her sophomore year of college, and it was awful, but she and her mother had each other. She didn't have to worry about custody or anything.

"What about your dad?" she asks, figuring it's as good a question as any.

"He was some guy my mom met in a bar. Some Filipino college student doing study abroad. She never even knew his last name, so when she found out she was pregnant, she didn't have any luck tracking him down." When she doesn't respond again, he gives her a wry smile. "Sorry, I suck at small talk, right?"

"No, it's--none of my small-talk feels like an appropriate response."

"Siblings?" he asks.

"Nope. Just Wells."

"Our RA?" he asks, dubious.

"Yeah, we've been best friends for our whole lives. We've been in pre-school, elementary school, middle school, high school, and college together."

"And he's your RA?"

She grins. "That's not even the best part. At least I knew we were rooming together this year. Freshman year, we got randomly assigned to the same dorm."

He laughs again. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I was convinced my mom rigged it, but she swears up and down it was really a coincidence."

"Could she do that?" he asks, sounding dubious.

"I'm not actually sure. Honestly, when I thought about it, I decided she'd probably be more likely to try to keep us apart so I wouldn't lean on him to make friends."

"Yeah, uh, I'm not getting the impression you need any help making friends," he says, dry, and Clarke grins. 

"I know, right? I kind of--" She bites her lip, but, honestly, if he's homophobic or whatever, she'd like to find out now. Plus, the _I'm bi_ conversation usually inspires other people to respond in kind. So maybe he'll mention if he likes guys or something. "I figured out I was bi in tenth grade, and I started dating this girl on the softball team junior year, but I didn't know how to tell my parents, so I was kind of shifty about my social life for a while. It made my mom think I was shy or something."

"Yeah, that sounds just like you," he teases, holding the door to the ice-cream store open for her, and then for his sister, when she finally catches up. "Did your legs stop working?" he asks her, dry.

"Not _totally_ ," Octavia says. "You're paying for my ice cream."

"I already paid for your lunch."

"You used a guest-meal and you don't have any other friends, so who cares?"

Bellamy gives Clarke a smile too. "I might as well get yours while I'm at it."

"You don't have to," she protests. It's pretty obvious Bellamy doesn't have that much money, which makes sense if he's an orphan, and Clarke has more than enough. "Seriously, I--"

"Celebrating your win," he says, a little gruff, and then offers her a smile. "You can get me next time."

It's the promise of next time that makes her give in, and she smiles back. "Thanks."

Once they've got the ice cream, Octavia seems to decide it's weird that she's so obviously giving them privacy, and decides to quiz Clarke on her life instead. Bellamy tries to object at first, but Clarke shrugs it off, answers all the questions with ease. She knows she's privileged and it's obvious from her answers, but she tries to be open about it, and Octavia must be satisfied, because the interrogation ends after twenty minutes and she says, "So, want to come play video games with us?"

Clarke glances at Bellamy, who inclines his head. "It's usually Smash Brothers, but there are plenty of Pokemon in there, so I assume you'll be fine."

"I'm pretty good with Mewtwo, yeah." She gives him a big grin. "You know video games aren't just for nerds anymore. Besides, Raven is an engineering major. She has more gaming systems than you do."

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "If you're busy we won't be offended."

"Nope," she says truthfully. "Free as a bird."

*

"I was wrong," Octavia declares, once Clarke has taken off. "You totally have a shot. I don't know what happened."

"Neither do I," says Bellamy, a little dazed. He has Clarke's number and an invitation to a party tonight, if he wants to come, and the promise of more hanging out at some nebulous point in the future. "It's a _She's All That_ thing, right? It's got to be."

"I don't know. She likes video games, you're not hideous, it seems like she could do better, but remember that year I had a crush on your friend Jasper? Sometimes inexplicable shit just happens. Feelings don't make sense."

"Thanks. I guess I should see if Miller wants to go to the party, right? I should try to go. That's what people do. Fuck. I'm going to have to do so much shit if I want to be friends with her."

"Probably not," Octavia points out. "I dunno, I think if you just called her up and asked if she wanted to hang out and play video games, she'd be cool with it." She huffs. "It's _so weird_."

"I'm glad you're totally baffled by the idea that someone might like me."

"You are too."

"Not _anyone_ , just her. She has a ton of friends, she doesn't need any more." He flops back on his bed. "She's rich, so she's not using me for money, which wouldn't work anyway. She's smart, so she's not using me to get better grades in our class. She's gorgeous, so she's got to have pretty high standards, right? It's a bet. It's totally a bet."

"Have you told Miller?"

"Told him what? That I made a friend and I can't figure out why?"

"That's what you told me."

"No, I haven't mentioned it to anyone else. What am I supposed to say? I'm friends with Clarke Griffin now? I have friends. It's not news."

"It kind of is, though."

He rubs his face. "I'll text him after I take you home, okay? And see if he wants to do a party tonight."

"He won't, text Jasper instead. Jasper loves parties, Miller will just tell you to stay home and play Ascension."

"True," Bellamy grants. Miller is the least ostensibly nerdy of his friends, but he's also the most anti-social, so he will always pick board games or drinking in his or Bellamy's room over parties and other social interaction. It's part of why they get along so well. But Miller is not the person to make him go out and be social. Jasper, on the other hand, is vaguely depressed that Monty has a boyfriend (Miller, so Monty is also useless for talking him into socializing) and always desperate to be more popular, so he's not surprised when his _hey, want to go to a party_ text receives an almost immediate response of _!!!!!!!!!!_ and then a bunch of blank emoji boxes.

Monty calls five minutes later.

"You might have killed Jasper."

"No one will ever convict me, though." He pauses his game. "Doesn't he go to parties sometimes? Is this really a big deal?"

"You said it was a softball party and he basically fell into a bliss coma," Monty says, sighing. "There's some girl on the softball team in his English class, he's been looking for an excuse to see her more." There's a pause and he says, "What happened?"

"I made friends with Clarke Griffin."

He's expecting some sort of shock, but Monty just says, "Oh, yeah, Clarke's great."

"Yeah?"

"Pre-med buddies," Monty says. "We get drunk and cry about how much med school is going to suck. Clarke's the best."

"So, you and Miller want to come too?"

"I'm going to have to go," he says on a sigh. "Jasper needs me to keep him from dying of nerves. And if I have to go, Nate has to go."

"Awesome."

There's a pause and then Monty asks, "So, you and Clarke?"

"We're in the same Japanese lit class."

"Uh huh."

"She's cool."

"She is. I'm going to tell Nate you have a crush on a girl."

"He'd be more surprised if I had a crush on a guy," Bellamy points out. "See you tonight?"

"Looking forward to it."

Jasper and Monty have two small singles with a large common room and their own bathroom, which means they have a lot of room for hanging out and video games, and also that Monty has a setup to make his own booze for fun, which is--well, it sure as hell gets him drunk quickly and efficiently, he'll say that for it. And if he drinks it quickly enough, he almost can't taste it.

"Okay, so, do you know Maya?" Jasper asks, once they're settled in with drinks and some board game of Monty's to pre-game the party.

"I don't know anyone," Bellamy points out.

"You know that girl you've got a thing for," Miller says.

"And her name isn't Maya, so, yeah, no idea. I know exactly one girl."

"That doesn't even count," says Jasper, somewhat miserably. "Everyone knows Clarke."

Bellamy frowns. "Really?"

"Yeah. She's really friendly."

He rubs his face, and Monty pats him on the shoulder. "Hey, she's never invited me or Jasper to a party. You've got that going for you."

He's still more than a little anxious, going over to the party with his friends. Clarke did say to bring whomever he liked, and she apparently knows all of them, but that kind of makes it worse. If she's more excited to hang out with Monty than with him, he'll be a little hurt, even though Monty is awesome. Who wouldn't be excited to hang out with him?

He hates crushes _so much_.

The party is at some house where a large number of the seniors on the softball team live, and by the time they get there, it's already loud and packed and everything Bellamy hates about parties. He doesn't recognize the girl who lets them in, but she waves them all in and gives them each a hug, so she doesn't seem to mind that some strangers are wandering into the party. Or she's too drunk to realize they're strangers.

He's a little worried about finding Clarke in the mess of people, but there's a loud whoop from a table that sounds familiar, and he sees she and Raven are playing beer pong with a couple girls he vaguely recognizes from the game. Clarke looks gorgeous, laughing in triumph, and Bellamy only realizes that he's staring when Miller elbows him.

"Let's get drinks," Miller suggests, because he's secretly a good friend.

"Awesome."

By the time they get back with additional alcohol, Clarke and Raven have nearly won, so Bellamy and his friends hang around, watching the game. Clarke spots him during her opponents' turn and gives him a huge smile and holds up one finger, like she's afraid he's going to wander off at a party where he knows no other people instead of talking to her.

It still makes him feel better, that she wants to make sure he doesn't leave.

The game finishes up and Clarke waves off some challengers, tagging in Wells to join Raven instead so she can come see them.

"You came!" she says, grinning. "And you brought people and everything!"

"You said it was cool, and Jasper has a friend on the team."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Uh, Maya Vie? She's in my English class."

Clarke's eyes light up. "Oh, _Maya_. Awesome. Come on, let's go find her."

She says it to Jasper, but she takes Bellamy's arm, and he has to smile. She's kind of drunk and very pretty and, for reasons completely beyond him, she has taken a liking to him.

"I assume you guys are gonna go make out and be anti-social," Clarke adds to Monty and Miller. It's kind of unreal to him that she knows Monty and Miller are dating, not because they're private about it or anything, just because it's so weird that she knows all his friends when he spoke to her for the first time a week ago. 

He maybe should have at some point mentioned to someone he was curious about her. 

"Assuming Bellamy is gonna take over on wingman duty," says Monty, and then reconsiders. "Actually, maybe you should take over. Bellamy doesn't know how to wingman."

"I resemble that remark," Bellamy mutters, and Monty pats his arm.

"Have fun."

Maya is a quiet, pretty girl who's hanging out upstairs, watching people play video games, which means Jasper has probably set his sights on a pretty realistic target, unlike Bellamy, who wants to date a girl who knows everyone and seems to be really good at beer pong. 

But once Jasper is settled in and apparently talking to Maya in a way she finds charming, Clarke leans against his side and says, "It's really loud in here. Want to go somewhere else?"

"Sure."

She leads him up to the third floor and then pulls down a ladder leading into the attic, and he barely hesitates before following her.

Still, he can't help asking, "Really?" 

"There's roof access," she says.

"The question stands."

She opens up a window and climbs onto a flat part of the roof. It's almost April and not really _warm_ yet, but he's warm from alcohol and feels kind of invincible.

"So, you still don't trust me, huh?" she asks, once he's sitting next to her. He cocks his head, and she smiles. "You look like you're waiting for a punch line every time I talk to you."

He ducks his head. "That's not--I'm not. I just don't get it. What happened?"

"I had an excuse to talk to you," she says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Although if I'd known you knew Monty and Jasper and Miller I would have just used that."

Bellamy ducks his head for a laugh. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing."

"Yeah?" She scoots a little closer and leans her head on his shoulder. "Good."

*

On Monday, Clarke goes down to Bellamy's room after dinner, and he opens the door in a t-shirt so threadbare it's almost see-through and a pair of pajama pants.

"Uh, hi," he says, frowning a little. "Was I, uh--did I know you were coming?" he asks, running his hand through his tangle of curls.

"No, sorry. Wells came over to watch a movie and I wanted to give him and Raven some privacy, so I said we were doing project stuff and they believed me. I can go to the library, though, if you don't want to hang out."

"No, no, it's fine," he says, stepping out of the way so she can come in. "I just felt bad for forgetting we had shit to do. I'd be wearing real clothes."

"Don't ever put on real clothes on my account," she says, grinning. "I'm all for unreal clothes."

"Thanks."

"Sorry, I can stop hitting on you if it's weird."

"Just assume everything about our friendship is weird for me," he says. And then, "Okay, yeah, you hitting on me is really weird. Was that hitting on me?"

"A little."

"Huh."

She flops down on his futon. "I can hit on you more."

"Is it weird that makes me feel better?" he asks, sitting down next to her.

"Which part?"

"If you want to date me, at least there's a logical reason you were talking to me."

Clarke laughs. "Do you really want to know why I wanted to talk to you?"

"Kind of a pathetic amount, yeah."

Clarke leans her head against his shoulder again. She hasn't dated anyone since sophomore year, and while she gets plenty of casual affection from Raven and Wells and her teammates, but it's not the same as getting snuggles from someone she likes. Bellamy is warm and smells nice and she wants to see so much more of him.

"So, I saw you when we were moving in, and you were making fun of your sister, and I just thought you looked fun. That's it." She considers and then says, "Raven says I just pick people out and decide I want to keep them, and she's probably right. And I looked at you and I thought you looked like someone I wanted to get to know." 

He laughs. "Okay, I was wrong. That doesn't actually answer any questions." But he looks a little pleased.

"You never just have a good feeling about someone?"

He looks down at her with a small, fond smile. "Every now and then." He licks his lips. "Is it shallow if I just noticed you because I saw you coming out of the shower in this fucking _tiny_ towel? No mystic connection or anything, just total hormonal overload."

"I might have noticed that."

"It was like a postage stamp wrapped around your boobs, Clarke."

"If it'll make you feel better, I can tell you exactly how I feel about the shirt you're wearing."

"My shirt?" he asks, plucking at the fabric. "I've had it since high school, it's my laundry-day shirt. Honestly, barely a shirt at this point."

"Exactly."

He laughs and puts a hesitant arm around her, and Clarke snuggles in closer. He smells like detergent and old paper, she decides. Clean, but still just a little musty, the comforting kind of musty. "Okay, so, you saw me and thought I was hot. That's what I'm going with. You saw through the glasses and the ponytail without me having to get a makeover."

"You watch too many teen girl movies. And I told you, I _like_ the glasses."

"I babysat my sister a lot!"

"There's no shame in teen girl movies."

"Yeah, it's not like I'm obsessed with Pokemon or anything--"

"How does Ralts evolve?"

"Uh, evolves into Kirlia at level twenty, and then into Gardevoir at level thirty, unless it's male and you use a Dawn Stone, Gallade."

"I'm putting that down as obsessed with Pokemon."

There's a pause as he thinks this over, and Clarke slides her hand under the thin material of his shirt. His stomach is really firm. Probably being an anti-social nerd gives him a lot of time to work out.

"Yeah, okay." Another pause, and then, "At what point are you going to realize I'm kind of a total loser?"

"I don't know. You seem fine to me."

"That's because I haven't gone on any long history rants yet."

"I like nerdy rants. Why haven't you gone on long history rants?"

He snorts. "I've been so confused about what the hell you're doing talking to me I haven't had time to come up with any. It's honestly a first."

"Okay, so, hit me. Nerdiest history rant you've got. Lay it on me. What are you studying? What are you doing after graduation? I want the whole nine yards. You can see if it scares me off."

"I'm studying colonialism and postcolonialism," he says. "How colonies evolved and adapted to rule, independence, cultural identity, lasting impacts, all that. I'm starting my PhD in the fall, because I just want to be in school forever."

"Where are you doing your PhD?"

"Ark U. Good school, I got funding, and still close to Octavia." He licks his lips. "And here. Coincidentally." 

"Cool. That sounds really awesome, honestly. Tell me more."

He grabs his laptop and starts showing her his thesis draft, talking her through his research and interests, and she does eventually fall asleep, but it's not because it's boring, he's just warm and genuine and his voice is a low rumble in his chest. It's so _nice_ , she can't help it.

She wakes up in his bed in the morning, with him on the futon, because of course he would. She leaves him a note before running off to her first class, and when she gets to Japanese lit after, he's already there, in his usual spot.

"I didn't scare you away with my boring thesis?" he asks her, when she slides in next to him. But he's grinning.

"It was so bad I nearly dropped this class so I'd never have to talk to you again, yeah." She grins back. "It was interesting. You were just really comfortable."

"That's a new one."

She sticks her tongue out, but Professor Nishiyama comes in before she comes up with a real response.

Bellamy pulls his notebook out and writes, _Want to buy me lunch, since you owe me one?_

_Buy you lunch?_ she writes back.

_Somewhere fancy. I'm not a cheap date._

Clarke stifles a somewhat giddy laugh, and Bellamy looks like he's biting back on a smile too.

_Somewhere fancy_ , she agrees, and settles in to totally fail to pay attention to the rest of the class.

It's worth it.


End file.
